Grandeur
by MissedTheLastTrainHome
Summary: Camelot, 1899 – where the Upper Class are celebrities, balls are frequent and glamour is in fashion. The Gorlois family are notorious for their prestigious place in society. The Pendragon family are new in town. ARWEN, full summary inside. Reviews loved.
1. Chapter 1

Grandeur

Camelot, 1899 – where the Upper Class are celebrities, where balls are frequent and where glamour is in fashion. The Gorlois family are notorious for their prestigious place in society, and it is not news to anyone that Morgana, the eldest daughter, is to acquire a suitor. When the mysterious Pendragon family move to town, the dashing Arthur Pendragon is chosen to fulfil the job. However, the bachelor is attracted to Guinevere, Morgana's shy younger sister.

The heels of Morgause Gorlois clicking were the only audible sounds on Saints Street. She had insisted to walk alone, without her entourage of maidservants – for this was an appointment that required ultimate secrecy. Her perfectly prim turquoise coatdress provided a fair amount of warmth for the Lady, however, she wished she had took a carriage to her destination. The skies were murky with unshed tears of rain, which worried the older woman, as her hair had been styled into a regal plait that could easily unravel in such merciless weather.

Smirking, she stared into the houses that she walked past. Many were pathetic attempts of mansions. She disapproved. Real mansions were not surrounded in faux gravel and faux flowers. Real mansions were surrounded by the richest of marble stones and carefully selected flowers that complimented the colour scheme of the house. At least, her mansion was.

Turning the corner, Morgause noticed a large mansion in the distance. She opened her clutch bag and ruthlessly searched for the small note she was delivered from the Mayor. Scrawled on the note was an address – Pendragon Estate, 40 Saints Circle, Camelot. She was certain that this was the correct estate.

Morgause quickly arrived at the door. She surveyed the house. Good exterior with a fairly attractive garden. Lawns surrounding the house with fountains lining the stony, winding driveway. Atleast seven bedrooms. Fleet of carriages. A small cottage opposite for the staff. A small, tight smile appeared on Morgause's face. She was impressed – not many new movers managed to secure themselves such a debonair home.

Three raps on the oak door and Mrs Gorlois found herself smoothening out her perfectly pressed outfit. Perhaps she should have worn something more glamorous? No, she confirmed to herself, Morgause Gorlois never makes a mistake.

The door soon glided open. A doorman waited behind it, expectantly waiting for her name.

"Morgause Gorlois. I am here to visit Mr Uther Pendragon." She snapped, frowning at the Doorman who hesitantly let her inside the house.

"Of course...Madame. May I take your coat?" the Doorman asked. Morgause took a long look at his attire – ebony black tails with a top hat. His uniform was embroidered with small golden dragon – Morgause acknowledged that this must be the family crest.

"No. I will not be staying for long. I assume Mr Pendragon will see me shortly?" She replied, taking a seat on the luxurious chaise. The doorman nodded and strode off to inform the staff of the blonde guest's arrival.

Morgause's felt her blood boil. The staff here were incompetent. The doorman was seemingly vacant and he had not replied to her question – the height of ill manners.

Morgause gazed around. For new movers, they had transformed the house surprisingly fast. Chandeliers had already been installed in the spacious foyer, as had tapestries and a large shield with the family crest emblazoned on.

Morgause also noticed a grand piano hidden in the corner of a foyer. Evidently a member of the Pendragon family played. Impressive.

"Madame Gorlois? Mr Pendragon is ready for your engagement." A fair-haired maid servant announced, emerging from the scarlet set of high-rise doors from the bottom of the foyer. The maid led the visitor down a narrow corridor, to a single scarlet door. The maid tentatively knocked on the door.

"Come!" a voice boomed from inside the room. The maid pushed open the door. Morgause found her eyes settle on the man sitting behind the scarlet coloured wooden table. A receding tuft of combed dark hair. Piercing grey eyes. Jagged cheekbones. A strong gaze.

"Mr Pendragon, may I introduce Mrs Morgause Gorlois." The maid murmured, gesturing to Morgause. She swiftly exited to the room.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Mrs Gorlois?" Uther asked, folding up his newspaper and standing to kiss the lady's extended hand. Morgause felt a small shiver of happiness run down her spine – the gentleman was genuine, which would make her proposal very easy.

"Please, it's Morgause. I came to welcome you graciously to our neighbourhood. I do believe you and your sons will be an asset to the Upper Class of Camelot." She said, oozing generosity and displaying all of her perfectly practised lady-like qualities.

"I am grateful, Morgause. The transition from Mercia to Camelot was difficult...we lived there for years. However, I am keen to continue all of our Upper Class routines and traditions in what seems like an even more sumptuous neighbourhood." Uther replied, indicating that Morgause sit.

"My family reside in Gorlois Manor. You may have heard of Thomas Gorlois, my husband of twenty summers. He is a lawyer. My two daughters, Morgana and Guinevere, are twenty and seventeen. Of course, Morgana is the more...eligible of the two. I dare say that she takes after her mother." Morgause explained, eliciting a deep cackle from Uther, who then ran a hand down his black dinner jacket to keep himself in check.

"I am yet to greet your daughters or husband, I am afraid. My sons have not met any acquaintances, let alone suitable matches. I highly doubt Merlin, my younger son, will meet an eligible woman. He is talentless, I am sure. Arthur, on the other hand, is my prodigy. He is very capable at sports and I have taken pride in his studies. He does have a slightly rebellious side, but I am certain marriage would eradicate that." The Pendragon father said, pushing his large broadsheet newspaper into a drawer.

"I do seek Morgana a suitor. She is a very beautiful young woman with the etiquette of a lady. Perhaps she could be introduced to Arthur?" Morgause suggested, deciding to go for the killer question. Uther did not raise his eyebrows, nor jump back in shock. He simply nodded.

"I do find the proposition very fulfilling. However, how do I know that your eldest daughter is the most fitting for my son's future?" Uther questioned smugly. Morgause raised an eyebrow.

"My family are hosting a ball, on the forthcoming Saturday. It's an annual celebration for the Saints Neighbourhood. You are most welcome to join us – it is a marvellous way to meet the members of our neighbourhood. I can assure you that you and Arthur will be able to dance with Morgana and Arthur will have a seat next to my daughters while dining. Perhaps you would be able to find a suitor for Merlin and yourself as well."

Uther paused. He and Morgause looked at each other, coldly.

"My wife passed away fourteen years ago. Igraine. Igraine Pendragon. She succumbed to an outbreak of smallpox." Uther said, remaining stoic at his desk as Morgause stood up.

Feigning sorrow, she frowned.

"Oh, how terrible. I believe she will have been a touching woman. Please do attend our ball – few have better events to go to. I will be in touch." Morgause announced, nodding at her new found acquaintance and then flouncing out of the room. She strutted down the corridor, ignoring the maid's request to guide her out of the mansion and left the house.

For Morgause, three things were clear. Morgana's future would be well secured with a man with Arthur Pendragon's looks and fortune. Uther Pendragon would not want his son with anyone who would disappoint the family. And Morgause would continue to be the most powerful woman in Camelot.

* * *

A/N - I hope you enjoyed this. I am still of course continuing with Adore, but I've been inspired by Downton Abbey/The Luxe to write this! Please review and give me some feedback; it is appreciated SO much! I love to know what my readers think about my fanfictions :) Any questions about my works are always appreciated also - I'll try and reply to as many as I can. Follow me on Twitter: UnaIsNotorious or PendragonMagic :)


	2. Chapter 2

Grandeur

Camelot, 1899 – where the Upper Class are celebrities, where balls are frequent and where glamour is in fashion. The Gorlois family are notorious for their prestigious place in society, and it is not news to anyone that Morgana, the eldest daughter, is to acquire a suitor. When the mysterious Pendragon family move to town, the dashing Arthur Pendragon is chosen to fulfil the job. However, the bachelor is attracted to Guinevere, Morgana's shy younger sister.

Chapter Two

Jealousy was something that, unfortunately, Guinevere Gorlois was very accustomed to. The jealousy never made her a bad person – in a way, it was only right that Guinevere was jealous.

The cause of Guinevere's jealousy was extremely close to home – her sister, Morgana. Morgana was three years her senior, and thus, Morgana was smarter, taller, thinner: the ideal of perfection. Her hair was flawless. Her etiquette was faultless. She was the epitome of a perfect lady.

Guinevere had never had the chance to be as perfect as Morgana – for she was the unfavoured daughter. Her parents, Morgause and Thomas, had hoped for boy when they found out that their conception had been successful. Instead, Guinevere had been born. Thomas had never shown care towards the younger daughter. He couldn't remember having a conversation that lasted over 10 minutes with the girl. Guinevere remained humble for what she had, however – the loveliest mansion across the whole of Camelot, lots of money, dresses, divine food...

The youngest Gorlois knew that she desired none of those things, however. For Guinevere, her dream was to love and be loved in return. She wanted time to be spent on her; not money. Sadly, Morgana received both of these things.

"Guinevere?"

The high, clear voice that belonged to Morgana resonated into Guinevere's bedroom. Guinevere looked up from her bed to see her older sister glide into the room.

"Mother says that you are to use one of my old dresses for the ball." Morgana instructed, pausing afterwards to survey the room with a look of disdain. The older sister shook her head, letting her lustrously dark hair flutter around her head.

"What is the matter with one of my own dresses? They are perfectly acceptable." Guinevere replied, raising an eyebrow. Morgana narrowed her green eyes and swiftly turned on her heel to open the wardrobe positioned in the room. She flipped through Guinevere's selection of dresses.

"Half of these dresses are my hand-me-downs already, sister. These dresses are not something you boast about – they lack any fashion insight and most of the fabrics are repulsive. I have a dress in blue that was imported from Paris. I believe it to be stunning."

Guinevere stood up from her bed. She was wearing a long peach skirt with a matching corset-style top. Guinevere had been allowed to pick the outfit herself when purchasing it, and it was one of the few outfits she loved wearing. Morgana, conversely, wore a short fuchsia dress with ruffled sleeves and soft cream underskirts, paired with a cream angora shrug and a pair of kitten heels . Guinevere allowed herself a smirk – this was only Morgana's casual wear!

A scowl fell onto Guinevere's face as Morgana presented the French dress. It was cerulean blue, with an unnecessary train of gauze and silk. The chest area was vamped up with a gauze bow – it looked horrendous.

"Must I wear your dresses, Morgana? I have that green dress that Mother bought me last spring. It's admirable." She addressed her sister. Morgana scoffed at the thought.

"That dress? Please, Gwen – that dress should not be worn at a visit to the florist's, never mind a ball!" she scolded, dumping the blue dress on Guinevere's bed.

The younger sister found herself becoming irate.

"No, Morgana. Take your French dress back and wear it yourself. I'll pick my own outfit for tonight." she scolded, grabbing the garment and flinging it back to Morgana.

Morgana's eyes narrowed.

"You forget how lucky you are, Guinevere. There are places for disobedient children, you know. Orphanages. Workhouses. You should be careful. We live in high society but that does not mean we don't have the opportunity to rid ourselves of annoying pests like you." She spat, before flouncing out.

Gwen sighed as she heard Morgana scream for a servant. Morgana behaved awfully towards the servants; name calling them and ordering them around like cattle. Gwen herself tried to be kind and respectful to the maids and manservants – apparently she was the only one who did so.

Uther Pendragon waited at the bottom of the staircase for his two sons to finish readying themselves. Merlin traipsed down the stairs first, tripping over his feet halfway and almost sliding down the rest. He wore a black suit with a red scarf around his neck. Uther tutted at the scarf – it was, as always, inappropriate. However, the older man felt no need to tell his son this, as he had done many a time, and each time resulted the same way – the boy refused point blank to remove the wretched scarf.

Arthur followed, minutes later. He descended the stairs oozing confidence in a black tuxedo and waistcoat. The manservants lined up at the bottom of the stairs to help with transferring the family into the carriage, all eight men dressed in Pendragon uniform. Uther gave them a quick once-over, before nodding that they carry out their jobs.

"You look exceptionally smart tonight, Arthur. You too, Merlin...somewhat." Uther commented, watching his sons interact.

Arthur grinned.

"New suit. I got it tailored last weekend – perfect fit, don't you think?" he asked, spinning on the spot. Merlin didn't say anything. He just bit his lip.

"Merlin. You're quiet?" Uther asked the black-haired teenager – who simply shrugged in return. It was certainly not in his nature to be conversational : usually, he played in the shadows. Merlin had very few socialite friends, unlike his brother, who was considered to be the ringleader of the youthful male socialites. In a way, Merlin was everything Uther hated – the timid, reserved character. Arthur, conversely, was bold and brash – he exerted oozy confidence in everything he did.

Uther indicated that they leave for the carriage, which was freshly polished and stood gleaming on the winding drive of the Pendragon estate. Three manservants immediately attended to their needs – opening the doors, pulling the plush curtains across the interior carriage windows and ensuring that the men were comfortable. Uther bemoaned the dark carriage – he found it plain, and frankly, boring.

"Perhaps a servant could paint it," Merlin noted, "they could paint it red."

Arthur guffawed.

"Merlin, I do believe father was inclined towards a carriage slightly more stylish than something that a servant painted tacky scarlet." He reaffirmed, mocking Merlin's idea (something that happened increasingly often).

The stallions pulled away, jolting the carriage.

* * *

Sorry for the long delay. I'm going to be updating this much quicker! I loved all of your reviews. Next chapter is the anticipated ball - please review and inspire me to keep writing, I have some wicked ideas planned.


End file.
